He Loved Her
by Ibbonray
Summary: "He loved her, and she didn't love him back." One hundred-word drabbles. Thresh/Rue centric. Written for Caesar's Palace's "The Color Challenge."


**He Loved Her**

**(and she didn't love him back)**

By: Ibbonray

* * *

**I. Red **

Another apple was fed to the basket. The straw strands cradled the fruit, wrapping around it in a rough, gullible embrace. There was stark contrast between the apple and the basket, for the straw was a golden-brown and the apple a bright red.

The little girl smiled as she descended the branches and dropped to the ground. She approached the boy- older than she by four years or so- and held out an apple to him.

"Eat," said she.

He declined, replying, "It's red."

"So?"

"It makes me think of blood."

The girl frowned. The boy turned and walked away.

* * *

**II. Orange **

He watched her as she twirled around the dance floor, her head thrown back in a bout of hearty laughter. Her eyes twinkled and her orange dress flared out around her ankles, creating a whirlwind of blurred fabric and bronze skin.

Voices sounded behind him. Jeers. Taunts. Comments about his fascination with her. He turned to stare at them, but did nothing more, for there was no point in fighting. They disliked him. They would always dislike him- it was inevitable.

He looked back at her. She was so pretty.

They kicked him. Punched them.

All he saw was orange.

* * *

**III. Yellow **

"Don't you ever wonder why the sun is yellow?" A half-smile graced her lips as she watched the sun rise over the district, bathing the trees in a distinct morning glow.

"No," he replied.

"Hmm." She ran her hands over her bushy brown hair, patting it down. "You know what the sun reminds me of? It reminds me of my Aunt Rosa. She's always a bundle of joy, even when it's raining and we get nothing to eat for dinner. What does the sun remind you of, Thresh?"

He looked down at her bright yellow sandals. "You," he responded honestly.

* * *

**IV. Green **

He gripped the sides of the basin, crushing the white porcelain with his wide, strong hands. He stared into the broken mirror- a few shards of glass littered the bottom of the sink, but surprisingly, the mirror was mostly intact- and gritted his teeth, watching as the girl behind him put a consoling hand on his shoulder.

"Are you okay?"

No, he wasn't okay. He had just caught her kissing Amir Green. Amir Green, who was moderately cute. Amir Green, who was eleven, just like she was.

"You kissed him."

"So?"

He closed his eyes. "Leave. Please."

Hesitantly, she did.

* * *

**V. Blue**

Her hands were small, her fingers thin. Her veins, the faintest blue, created an embossed network of lines that ran underneath her bronze skin. He traced them carefully, running his fingers along the backs of her hands, following the trails in which her blood was pumped back to her heart for purification.

He'd always loved how veins were blue- how blood wasn't red until it met oxygen- how blood wasn't red until it was spilt. He'd hated blood, and the colour red, ever since his father was shot by the Peacekeepers.

But he loved blue.

"Happy birthday," he whispered softly.

* * *

**VI. Purple **

The escort's skin was not subtle lavender or rich plum, but a vivid, flamboyant purple that disgusted nearly all of the residents in District Eleven. Thresh was no exception. As he fixed his gaze upon the violet woman with the impossibly large breasts, he felt utterly repulsed by her entire being and willed this day to be over.

Her hands, with the impossibly long fingernails, drifted over the ladies' bowl and chose a slip.

He clenched his fists.

"Rue Arbound!" She called, and he nearly screamed.

She mounted the stage. The crowd was silent. He couldn't breathe.

"Thresh Falore."

Fuck.

* * *

**VII. Gray **

The skies were blanketed in gray, and for once, her Aunt Rosa wasn't smiling.

"Come back to us."

Her siblings, all six of them, clung to her, seemingly unable to let go- too young to understand what was happening.

"Why are you leaving?"

Her parents grieved, giving her a woven necklace for a token as they wept.

"We love you."

Her friends, so many of them, embraced her. They were sorry for her- so sorry- but she could see the relief in their eyes.

"Good luck, Rue!"

Amir didn't visit. Apparently he didn't care.

She cried.

The skies were gray.

* * *

**VIII. Black **

As if attending the funeral of a loved one, or visiting the cemetery to lay flowers on a grave just so they could wilt within the hour, they dressed in black. They picked their way through dinner while she talked enough for the two of them. She explained that they were friends. He didn't explain that, for him, it was more than that.

They watched the reaping recaps. They went to bed, and then as midnight struck they simultaneously entered the parlour, curling up in the window-seat together and looking out into the darkness.

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault."

* * *

**IX. White **

He fiddled with the strap of his overly frayed overalls and looked down at her. She stood at his side, a foot and a half shorter than he, and yet she seemed so tall- her entire being surrounded in a lovely aura that made up for the lost height. She didn't notice that he was staring at her. She was looking up at the president.

He looked to the president now, taking in his white suit, ivory hair, and the pale rose on his lapel. And for a moment, Thresh swore red wasn't so bad.

White, if possible, was worse.

* * *

**X. Brown**

She was stunning. Her gossamer dress, a thing made of shimmering silk, was a deep brown that caused her skin to glow in the harsh stage lights. The delicate wings on her back captured her twelve-year-old innocence perfectly. Her chocolate hair was curled, falling in waves over her back.

"I'm very hard to catch, and if they can't catch me, they can't kill me. So don't count me out."

As they passed each other, she took his hand and squeezed it, smiling reassuringly.

He took his seat.

"Do you have a girl?"

"No." _Truth._

"Do you love anyone?"

"No." _Lie. _

* * *

**XI. Pink **

"I wish… I wish we weren't reaped together," she told him. He watched her lips move, mouthing the words with articulate skill. "I could say that I wish I didn't know you, but that's not true, Thresh. It has been nice knowing you."

She clasped her hand in his. He was grateful for her presence. He couldn't stand not being able to talk to her one last time.

"Rue," he breathed. Her lips were pink. "Rue, I-"

He couldn't get out the words, so he kissed her.

And she pulled away.

"I love you," he pleaded.

"I'm sorry." She fled.

* * *

**XII. Gold**

The golden Horn of Plenty glinted in the sunlight, a tempting base of survival and death all compiled into one. Many would run to it in an attempt at establishing a plentiful way of life in the next few weeks. Others would run to it because they wanted to kill- because they were insane psychopaths.

He was running towards the golden Cornucopia because he had to confirm that Rue was alive. He had to protect her, if necessary.

He picked up a scythe and looked around, just as she disappeared into the trees.

Good.

He ran, gold at his back.

* * *

**XIII. Silver**

The scythe was silver.

He sliced through the wheat field, creating a pathway in the midst of the dense expanse of gluten-related plants. It was his territory; no one else dared enter it, what with it being in Thresh's reign and the unknown creatures that could have been.

Ha. Despite the occasional snake, the fields were relatively harmless. He was safe.

He was lonely.

He missed her terribly, but refrained from wishing she were there with him. As he peered at the silver weapon, he imagined her dabbling in her favourite pastime: jumping through the trees.

Far away, she was.

* * *

**XIV. Bronze**

Every time a cannon boomed, he thought it was Rue. He would panic for hours, imagining what weapon had punctured her flawless bronze skin, until the dead tribute's face would shine in the sky. And then, when it wasn't her, he would sigh in relief.

He spent a lot of time thinking about her skin. It was an odd obsession. Maybe because, now that he was in the arena, she was the only one with skin from home.

The next time the cannon boomed, he panicked once again.

And when he saw her next, shining in the sky, he cried.

* * *

**XV. Rainbow**

The rain came down softly, and still he cried. It had been a day now, or maybe two. He didn't know. He missed her. He missed her so much.

He loved her, and she didn't love him back. Now, she was gone.

The sun shone down through the clouds for a moment, and Thresh thought of the time Rue offered him that apple. Rue twirling in her orange dress. Rue talking about the sun. Rue kissing Amir. Rue's veins. Rue's reaping. Rue outside and inside the arena.

He looked up at the sky to see a rainbow.

"Goodbye," he whispered.

* * *

**~finem~**


End file.
